


The Game Of Deductions

by inshadows



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Game is afoot, Gen, Near Death Experiences, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock and L rivalry, Sherlock: The Game Is Now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22066588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inshadows/pseuds/inshadows
Summary: The worlds two greatest detective Sherlock Holmes and L (Death Note), fight against one another to solve the same crime! Join in the fun to find out who wins at this game of deduction.
Kudos: 2





	The Game Of Deductions

THE GAME OF DEDUCTION.

Disclaimer : I do not own Sherlock or Deathnote Characters, the Story is mine tho ;)

The curly haired consulting detective sat with his legs crossed leaning on the leather armchair, he lit yet another cigarette without any attempt at conversation. John fidgeted in his chair as his eyes again wandered to the peculiar teenage boy sitting wide-eyed in the chair directly in front of Sherlock. He sat crouched on the chair with his knees close to his chest, his forehead was covered by a clump of dishevelled hair and there were huge black bags under his eyes. His butler, Watari reeled the tea tray into the drawing room and handed everyone tea. John whispered a little thank you while taking the cup, he was surprised to see that there were cupcakes on the tray, he was sure there weren't any kept in the house. 'He carries cupcakes?'

"Sherlock." The boy said frowning as he took a sip of his tea. His voice brought John back into present.

Sherlock's lips parted to let off smoke.

"L." Sherlock addressed him.

L picked up a sugar cube between his thumb and forefinger and added it to his tea. He kept adding sugar to his tea to the point where John thought it would taste like sugary syrup. L began stirring his tea and looked up at Sherlock again.

"You must be fully aware of my business here." he said.

"Yes I am." Sherlock said.

L took another sip of his tea and smiled.

"You must know Mr. Holmes that I prefer to work alone but in your case I might be willing to make an exception." L said.

Sherlock stood up with a whirl of his blue dressing gown. He put out the cigarette by grinding it against the table.

"I do not require any assistance on this case. You are free to leave now." Sherlock snapped.

"Mr. Holmes I am not here to assist you, the case has been officially handed over to me by the British government. I was merely suggesting an offer to work under me." L said rubbing his toes over each other as he helped himself to a cupcake.

John Watson's eyes went wide in alarm. He turned over to Sherlock expecting to see him explode.

Sherlock paced around the room with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.  
"In that case, I would just have to continue the investigation on my own. Not that the aid of the Scotland Yard was of any value." He said.

"I am obliged to inform you that any interference will not be tolerated." L said

"I am obliged to disregard that information." Sherlock said.

"You are walking on eggshells here, Mr. Holmes." L said.

"Well then, we will just have to see who catches the killer first." Sherlock said faking a broad smile on his face.

"We just might. Let's go Watari," L said with finality in his tone as he got up. He walked with his shoulders crouched towards the door while his butler followed donning his long coat and an oversized hat.

"Till then. Sherlock Holmes." L said as he walked out of the door the butler held open for him.

As soon as the door shut, Sherlock bounced back on the couch and drained the cup of tea placed on the table in a shot. John saw Sherlock's eyes light up in excitement.

"Call Lestrade John, tell him to be here at once." He said as he watched the black limousine race out of his view from the window of 221B Baker's street.

"The Game Is On!"

The first murder had taken place one week ago. Inspector Lestrade had called Sherlock to the crime scene.

"What do you think, John?" Sherlock asked.

John rose from his examination of the body lying on the floor. "Well there are no abrasions on the body and no signs of struggle; it seems that Mr. Abbott here, died of a cardiac arrest most probably triggered by a cocktail of drugs ingested, traces of which exists on his fingers. Most probably cause of death is suicide."

"Is that your conclusion too?" Sherlock asked Lestrade. He walked inside the basement carefully examining every corner of the room.

"There has been no official pronouncement from The Yard as yet, but most of the evidence seems to point to a simple case of suicide." Lestrade answered as he stood near the basement door.

"And yet you called us." Sherlock said. "Wait... you said most of the evidence?"

"Well... the victim contacted us prior to his death stating that he received a phone call from an anonymous lady who threatened to kill him in the next hour."

"A phone call?" Sherlock enquired.

"As a doctor, I would highly recommend against believing a person who is under the influence of so many drugs." John said.

"What is your conclusion?" Lestrade asked.

"It's difficult to give one when you have disrupted the crime scene on so many levels." Sherlock said haughtily.

"Sherlock.." John tried to subdue him.

"I can assure you that no one has stepped into this basement in quite some time except Mr. Abbott, the dust patterns are intact. There are short scratches on the door knob where the key had been inserted to lock the door; this means that our victim's hands were shaking when he entered the basement. Furthermore, there is no drug residue on the knob, which means that he wasn't under the influence of drugs when he locked himself in. His cell phone was found in his right side pocket while the drugs bottle was found in his left. There is also a crack extending along the length of the bottle to the cap; my deduction is that he realised the presence of the drugs in his pocket after he fell to the ground. He used his right hand to call the police while he used his left hand to pull out the drugs but didn't ingest any as there is lack of residue on his right hand which means that he didn't even open the cap, probably because he went into cardiac arrest at that time." Sherlock said.

"Do you mean that the victim was unaware of that there were drugs on him?" Lestrade enquire.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, our murderer planted them there. Then there is the curious case of the phone call. Why such a foolish act of calling the victim and risk increasing the chances of getting caught?" Sherlock said more to himself than others.

Just then Sergeant Sally Donovan walked in, "Sir, we pulled the phone records, there was in fact a call from an unknown number. We have traced the call and sent a TAC team to the location."

"Don't expect to find anything there; most likely a burner phone was used. Let's go, John." Sherlock said as he left the room and John followed leaving behind a fuming Sergeant Donovan and confused Lestrade.

"What do you make of it?" John asked back at home.

"ah.. nothing.. much interesting, the Scotland Yard would catch the killer eventually." Sherlock said.

"Does this means you are not helping?" John asked.

There was no response from Sherlock. John had started to worry about him. He wasn't interested in anything of late, and spaced out in between conversations.

The headlines of the London times the next day read 'The Call girl strikes again' another murder had taken place in a similar manner. Silly articles were being published that she could kill with just the sound of her voice, which put the people into frenzy. Sherlock had been called by the Yard a few times but he took no effort to prod the matter any further.

Taking the plastic paper off another Belgium truffle L held it from the top between his thumb and forefinger and put it in his mouth. His unblinking eyes stared at the monitor; a mountain of truffle plastic had formed and balanced beside the monitor. L frowned at the screen,

"Take me through the basement once again Watari." he spoke into the microphone.

"All doors and windows were locked from inside, no possible way to access the room from outside." Watari reported carrying the laptop through the basement of the first victim.

"I think we are done here. Thank you." A computerised voice came through the laptop before the screen went blank.

L pushed the buttons on his cell phone and held it over his ear, "Inspector Lestrade, this is L, I will need records of all the officers involved in this investigation including the doctors performing the autopsy on the victim. And yes keep a track of Mr. Holmes whereabouts for me please."

"He is not picking up my call." John said to Sherlock.

"Try again." Sherlock said as he put on his tie.

"For God's sake I have tried five times already, Sherlock." John said snappily

"Fine. Try Molly then, tell her we are coming by to get the autopsy results and not to hand them over to anyone else." Sherlock said as he put on his Belstaff coat.

"You do realize you are off the case and hold no authority whatsoever?" John asked him perplexed.

"It's Molly! Tell her I said please." Sherlock said plainly.

Sherlock had this poor habit of asking uncanny favours from people around him. What was more peculiar is that most of the times they agreed, for he had a remarkable gentleness and courtesy in his dealings when he wanted. He disliked and distrusted most of the people around him but was a chivalrous opponent.

The clouds had started crowding over the sky above baker's street. The brick walls of the houses surrounding 221B loomed gloomily awaiting the arrival of the impending rain.

John noticing the weather went in search for an umbrella since he knew Sherlock had a tendency of disregarding everything when on the scent of an interesting case. It had been quite a while since the both of them went out like this together. It almost felt like the old times.

Just as Sherlock started towards the door, Lestrade barged in. He was fuming it was difficult to decide whether it was because he was out of breath or just furious.

"Lestrade! Just the man I wanted to see. Sherlock said.

"Have a seat. Would you like some tea?" John asked him kindly.

Lestrade nodded as he plopped down the sofa. He looked tired. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

Sherlock opened the front door and shouted, "Mrs. Hudson we would like some tea here."

"I am not your housekeeper Sherlock." responded the old landlady from downstairs.

"I will take it as a yes then, thank you." Sherlock hollered shutting the door.

"I see having L in charge of the investigation is not suiting you well." Sherlock said.

"Well? Huh. It's bloody awful! He is an even bigger menace than you. He never shows up at work, no one knows what he even looks like and his shady assistant keeps ordering us to do things. Ordering! Me! The head of detectives. He has crossed the limit now! He has put everyone off the case and is conducting an investigation on the officers who were working on the case." Lestrade bawled.

"Isn't that better for you, you could just say not my department now." Sherlock mocked as Lestrade shot him a glare.

There was a soft knock on the door. Mrs. Hudson waddled inside with a tea tray in her hand.

"Inspector Lestrade it's been so long since I saw you. Have you lost weight?" Mrs. Hudson said.

"Yes, a lot of it actually."Lestrade replied.

"Very well, enough with the small talk, thank you." Sherlock said as he grabbed the tray from her hand and hurried her out the door.

"I am going to have a chat with your mother, Sherl.." she said as the door shut behind her back.  
"I would never understand why she hasn't kicked the both of you out yet." Lestrade said taking a sip of his tea.

"Let's get straight to the point. Why are you here Lestrade?" Sherlock said as he stood facing the window.

"You know bloody well why I am here, to help you solve the case." Lestrade said.

"I don't need your help. And if Scotland Yard had done their work in the first place you wouldn't have the need to be here." Sherlock replied.

Lestrade angrily set the teacup onto the table and got up, "I know you want to solve this case as much as I do. You would not be able to access the police data on your own. I am here to offer you to work this case as a team to help get rid of this new detective. But if you are so arrogant to refuse this offer then I think we are done here."

Lestrade grabbed his coat and opened the front door. Sherlock watched the clouds hide the sun and gloom setting over Baker's street through the window.

"Wait, George." He said at last.

Lestrade turned on the door and said exasperatedly,

"It's Greg."

"Close?" Sherlock tried to recompense as Lestrade just shook his head.

"Putting the Scotland Yard off the case doesn't seem like a wise decision." Watari said to L.

L was sitting with his knees raised to his chin on the table with files and records surrounding him. He set his teacup on Lestrade's portfolio and looked up to see Watari staring at him.

"I understand that but I have to ensure I don't leave out anything." L said rubbing his thumb over his chin. The walls on the room were covered with photographs, notes, and television screens.

"Watari, please take me through the case once again." L said. Watari took a seat on the chair near the computer table and pulled up the victim's profile.

"Henry Abbott, 43 year old male, worked at Miller Insurance LLP as an insurance agent, divorced five years ago. On Thursday night, 6:45 pm called the police stating to have received an anonymous call from a woman threatening to kill him within the hour. Police found him dead, locked inside the basement at 7:10 pm. No murder weapon was found, no break in detected."

"Any health complications?" L asked.

"Had diabetes but it is common with woman her age." Watari replied.

"Susan Novels 54 year old female, works as a legal adviser for the SiNex International, found dead Saturday morning, locked in her bedroom. Time of death 7:45am. Reported to have gotten a call from an anonymous woman threatening her to kill her an hour before her death. Bedroom door was locked from the inside."

"Edmund Sanders age 39 was an athelete, found dead in his apartment on the third floor, apartment door locked from inside. Same pattern as above. Was a bachelor living alone in the city. No drugs were found on him or his apartment." Watari completed.

"The murderer is definitely a woman." L said.

"It could also be a man modulating his voice on the phone call to throw the police off his scent." Watari remarked.

"No. The nature of killings reeks vengeance, the weapon used was most likely poison. By balance of probability, it is most likely a woman. I would need all records of what these victims did on the day of their death, who they met, what they ate, where they went, something has to be unusual." L said.

"What do you make of the phone call?" Watari asked.

"Most likely a killing ritual, most of the serial killers have them. A signature move. Also provide me with the locations to which the burner phones were traced." L said.

"It's time to make your move Sherlock." L ruminated drumming his fingers on the table.

"Tell me who do work for!" L yelled slamming his palms on the metal table.

Watari stood near the door. While Molly Hooper quivered on the other side of the table.

"I told you the reports are not yet ready." The red haired doctor tried to speak calmly to the furious boy standing in front of him.

"I can read that you are lying, you have 12 different tells. Are you working for someone? Who is it?" L said as he scrutinised her.

"Now, Now dear L you seem to be on the brink of paranoia. Ms. Hooper was saving those reports for me." Sherlock Holmes said as he got into the room behind Dr. Watson. He shut the door on Lestrade's face following behind him. Molly felt a wave of relief after seeing his face; she was not sure for how long she would have been able to put off this new teenage detective.

"You have no authority to do that whatsoever." L said.

"You have started to come out in public I see." Sherlock remarked.

"You have started hiding from them I see. This is first time in last 10 years that I have been called back to London for a case. You have started to lose you your touch Sherlock." L replied plainly. Sherlock's nostrils flared. John put his head back to get ready for his imminent retort.

"I'll do Molly for you then." Sherlock said.

Molly's cheeks flushed a bright red at the choice of words of which both the detectives did not give the slightest acknowledgement.

"She spent the last evening with her grandmother. There are stains of overcooked oatmeal on her sleeves. Add to that the crease on her dress made by pushing something in this case wheelchair suggest the care of an older person most likely her grandmother who lives in the city. Just started dating someone, the distinctive smell of trademark brand cologne would suggest that. But she spent her Saturday night with her grandmother would suggest that the relationship is in trouble, most likely a cheating partner. Or that could also mean her grandma is sick. However, we can rule out that possibility because she sounded jolly this morning, which confirms Grandma's health, then possibly because she met him this morning. A package is peeking out of her handbag barely letting the zipper close likely chance of a gift from her lover to make up for yesterday, the circumstantial nature and size of package would suggest a ladies man. Nevertheless, she came here directly from her grandmother's that would mean she met him here more likely solution he works in the same place, an office romance. Judging by the smell of cologne, it is a mix of two leading brands of deodorant which would mean sweat problem. The only person who would satisfy the criteria is Dan in Evidence on the third floor. Judging by the dating pattern a few weeks into the relationship an early breakup is to be expected."

John felt a booming urge to kick Sherlock in his gut. He looked over at Molly who was staring at her feet. Sherlock often disregarded people and situations around him when totally engrossed in proving a point. For a person of colossal IQ he had a very minute emotional index.

L tilted his head to the side to look at Sherlock like a child would. His face looked immortally sad as he said, "The skin between her thumb and forefinger has turned yellowish, would suggest chain smoking. The blink response of your eyes is delayed possibly because you spend a lot of time online. These are sign of obsessive behaviour. Yet when I checked with the police you haven't been able to solve the last three cases coordinated to you by The Yard."

"The last one case." Sherlock said looking irritated.

"Mycroft doesn't think so. You have a problem Sherlock a big one and it's interfering with your work. You have been blinded by it Sherlock that is why you are not able to see it. I am here to help." L said.

"I don't need your help!" Sherlock retorted.

"Fine." He added taking one last look at Sherlock. He gave a slight nod to John on his way out.

Sherlock stood there with his fists clenched for a while. He then turned towards Molly who was shaking. Apologetically he put his hand out towards her and started speaking, "Molly..."

"Here are your reports," She said at a higher pitch than normal, placing the reports in Sherlock's outstretched hand, "they have been complete with all the data you demanded." She took one last look at Sherlock.

"You never understand do you? Maybe because you don't care about anyone else's feelings at all." Tears had started brimming in her eyes and her voice cracked. Sherlock raised his eyes to look at her face, and she slapped him hard right across his cheek. Sherlock just stood there face down as Molly hurried out of the door slamming it in the process.

"Serves you right." John said to Sherlock from behind him.

As L left the office, he saw Lestrade strolling around,

"Maybe removing Scotland Yard off the case was not such a good idea after all." L said in a low voice to Watari. Lestrade's eyes went up to the familiar Watari's guise as he passed by and gave him a curt nod, completely oblivious to the teenage boy by his side.

"What about the autopsy reports for the last victim? You gave those up so easily, no interested in them anymore?" Watari asked.

"As a matter of fact I am waiting for Sherlock Holmes to bring them to me. Still I have an 87% idea what they would show. " L said.

The sun had started to set in London as L got inside his limo. The weather was still gloomy; L wondered when it would finally rain.

"Lestrade lets go."Sherlock said stepping off the bureau.

"Sherlock Holmes I am warning you beforehand if you ever shut the door on me again..." Lestrade looked furious but still went after Sherlock.

John was lost in thought and did not realise as he walked right into someone.

"I am so sorry," he said.

"It's fine." She replied. John felt as if he knew her somehow. Maybe an old patient.

"John?" Sherlock's voice beckoned and he followed him out.

"Lestrade I will contact you later after I have analysed these reports he said holding them up." Sherlock said to Lestrade as he got in the cab. Lestrade nodded.

"Was any of it true? What L said?" John asked as they drove off.

"He has said a lot of things since we met him what in particular are you concerned about?" Sherlock asked looking through the window.

"Don't play dumb Sherlock! You know exactly what I am talking about." John snapped back.

"John, if you are worried about my head not being in the game then I can assure you that it is not the case." Sherlock said.

John let out a sigh and looked out of the window with an annoyed expression.

"I have disappointed you." Sherlock said.

"That's a nice deduction, very good, really." John said with a mock smile on his face.

"People have died Sherlock, people who you could have saved. All of this because of your substance abuse? It is very selfish of you to hop on a case thinking it's a game and to refuse to help when you get bored of it. I suppose you would not have even taken up this case if it were not handed over to L. At least if he wants to help don't make it more difficult for him." John said to Sherlock.

"John, I know I have been distracted for last couple of months but I am not a police officer but a consulting detective which gives me a choice to select the case I wish to solve. I would like to apologise if that seems selfish to you." Sherlock said.

"Not so much of an apology Sherlock. Stop the cab please." John said. He got down from the cab and started walking in the other direction. John did not know where he wanted to go he just kept walking and walking keeping as much distance between him and Sherlock as possible.

The slender British detective took a deep breath before knocking on the hotel room door. Watari greeted him; he was dressed in an all black tuxedo with a black bowtie, which radically contrasted his white hairline. Sherlock smiled at him as he motioned him to enter. L sat on a plush sofa in the middle of the room with his legs raised up to his chin, not wearing any shoes. L's unblinking eyes started at the screen, while Sherlock looked dapper in his Belstaff coat L's clothes were all wrinkled and twisted locks of dark black hair covered his forehead.

"The Hat Detective, is that what they call you? British people do come up with funny nicknames... The Call Girl huh." L snorted, his eyes were fixated on the screen.

He picked out the strawberry on his strawberry smoothie and put it in his mouth.

"The autopsy results reported signs of cardiac arrhythmia and convulsions before death. There were signs of stress on the heart."Sherlock said.

"Can we trust that girl? Molly Hopper." L asked.

"Absolutely, she is one of mine. You have put the police off the case because you suspect police involvement. Leak of information?" Sherlock asked as he waded through the sweet wrappers that littered the floor.

"Obviously. She took efforts to make the first murder look as a suicide, but soon as the police concluded on murder, thanks to you and the victim's phone call, the killing pattern was changed. That information was not made public till after the second murder so it means we must have a leak." L said sipping on his smoothie as he took his eyes off the laptop to look at Sherlock.

"The timed phone call suggests that this was preplanned however the victim's reaction was not considered this would indicate that this was in fact her first actual murder." Sherlock said taking a seat on the chair placed opposite to him. The victim's portfolios were etched on the table by an ink pen. The walls were covered by written material and virtual screens, scribbling and notes were stuck upon the pictures. Sherlock spotted his own picture in one corner and a picture of John was stuck right next to him. John, his thoughts travelled back miserably and he instinctively checked his cell phone. There still were not any replies.

'John. I know I am at fault and I do not deserve to be forgiven so easily. However, I am ready to do better, I am going to do everything I can to solve this case as fast as possible. I am going to accept L's offer and I am going to see him right now, I would appreciate your help. The address is...' Sherlock's voice rushed through the voice mail on John's mobile.

John lay curled up on the sofa with the telly on. After a few beers with his old pal Mike Stanford John had returned to 221B Baker's street only to find Sherlock gone. There were over five missed calls and two voice mails from him. John just lay there, debating with himself; he had not yet forgiven Sherlock but the scent of an adventure was too tempting for him to resist. He ran a hand through his blond hair.

John restlessly got up and stood near the window, it had been gloomy all day and now it had started to get cold. As put on his cable knit sweater, the phone started ringing again. John felt a little irritated as he picked up the phone,

"For the love of God, Sherlock Holmes!" he started yelling into the receiver.

"Dr. Watson..." her voice was familiar and it's tenor sent shivers down his entire body.

L took a sip of his lemonade and asked Sherlock, "I usually take this with honey, are you sure you don't want anything?" Watari had reeled in third batch of liquids. First, it was smoothie, then chocolate milk and now lemonade and mixed fruit juices. Sherlock refused softly with his head still buried in the files.

"The first victim, did you find out who planted the drugs on him?" Sherlock asked him.

"If it were me I would have preferred the most inconspicuous way possible, where it is completely normal for an amateur to put a hand in your pocket without you noticing." L said.

"The Subway. Must have been when he was on his home back." Sherlock said. L's computer blinked and a cloister black W appeared on his computer screen. L pushed a button on his microphone.

"L, I am sending you the subway footage right now." A modulated voice spoke from the other hand. The video started playing.

"There! Did you see it? Right before he turns to the stairs, it's clearly her. Amateur really. " Sherlock pointed at the screen impatiently.

"We still don't know how to find her, her face is not seen much clearly. If she fits the criteria which we have assumed then we have little time before she disappears or kills herself." L said.

"Wait. Can you rewind a bit, in a slow motion please." Sherlock said. L played it again and sipped off the last of his lemonade with a gurgling sound.

"I have seen her before somewhere... Yes at the Scotland Yard office this morning she walked into John on our way out." He said, a daunting thought started creeping into his mind.

L punched a button on his microphone.

"Watari ask Lestrade to send the reports of all individuals who entered the Scotland Yard office today right now!" L shouted.

"I am going to make you pay for your sins. I am going to make you remember. No one can save you now. Run as far as you can and hide wherever you can. But I promise you this that I will find you." The voice rasped through the phone. Shivers went through the receiver and breath started being constricted. The receiver fumbled on the locks on the doors and windows finally securing them.

"Don't be scared I am doing you a favour by releasing you from this sinful life. The time is ticking, you have an hour." The macabre voice echoed in the locked room.

"Who are you? What are you doing this?" The receiver yelled shakily.

There was an eerie calm. The line had gone dead.

Sherlock and L briskly went through the reports

"Here she is! Ashley Latewood sister of Miranda Latewood. Guess what? Her sister works at the forensics department at Scotland Yard, that's how she must have taken care of the evidence. It is said here that she was suffering from clinical depression after her husband's death, attempted suicide, her doctor was John Watson. I need to get to John." Sherlock said as he got up and passed her file to L. L opened up his laptop and started typing something.

Sherlock pressed some buttons on his cell phone and held it to his ear as he impatiently paced around the room.

"Sherlock, I think you need to see this. Her husband was trapped in insurance fraud; his insurance agent was our first victim Henry Abbott. The lawyer who represented the case was Susan Novels. Our third victim, Edmund Saunders was his long time friend; he must have refused to help him because his after his death there has been a significant growth in his business. It says here that his wife was convinced that it was a case of murder and not a suicide because he was trying to expose the company. The doctor who performed autopsy was..."

L was interrupted by a loud ringtone noise in the hallway. John barged through the door with his phone ringing in his hand looking wet and flushed.

"It's Molly." I came as soon as I got her call.

"Sherlock! Sherlock! Please help me. She is coming for me. She said I have only an hour left. Please Sherlock." Molly cried through the phone.

"Molly take a deep breathe and try to calm down now read the number from which you got the call for me." Sherlock said trying to sound calm. He scribbled down a number on the notepad suddenly sound of Molly vomiting came from the other end.

"Molly, are you ok? Answer me." Sherlock asked but the phone went off.

"What are we waiting for? We have to leave right away! I will call Lestrade to get to Molly's house." John said restlessly.

"I will call Lestrade, send him the number, and inform him about the killer's sister in forensics." L picked up the phone called Lestrade to get the message to him.

"Wait you know who the killer is? Why can't we just go ahead and catch her before she gets to Molly?" John said.

"Tell him why we can't do that Sherlock." L said.

Sherlock had his eyes wide open in frenzy and fumbled with his cigarette pack desperately trying to light one up.

"Sherlock! Put that down. I know you can do better than this." L shouted.

"Because Molly is most probably already dead. The poison is in her system and by the time, we get around to asking the killer about the antidote it will be too late. The clock has started ticking and our best bet is to figure out what kind of poison it is and get her the antidote ourselves." Sherlock said. He threw away the cigarette pack and sat with his fingertips joined together pressing them against his lips.

"Where can we get the antidote?" John asked L, who kept down his handset and turned.

"When I first heard about the news about The Call Girl, I asked Watari to access our facilities in the Whammy's house and keep a set of them ready. We need to find out exactly what type of poison it is to treat her." L said.

"Go to your mind palace Sherlock. You know the answer find it! You have to find the solution yourself." L said focusing on Sherlock who had his first two fingers hard pressed against his temple.

"Are you schooling him? Is this some kind of game to you? Help him. Help him now!" John yelled at L.

"He needs this Dr. Watson. He will get to the solution, nothing to worry about." L said taking his seat on the sofa in his typical style.

John grabbed L's collar and held him up. His temper had slid out of control; all he could think about was Molly.

"You should know that I am very good at kung fu. Put me down Dr. Watson, I won't say that again." L said calmly.

"Well then you should know that I am an army man." John said. He punched L hard right in his face; L's feet immediately went up and kicked John's face. The boy wasn't so thin after all, his muscle showed below his t-shirt.

"Stop! Stop!" Sherlock shouted at them. Both of them moved away from each other and looked at him.

"What did you say?" Sherlock asked.

"Me? Well I said..." John started.

"No not you, him! When you got that lemonade, you said you take it with honey." Sherlock pointed at L.

"Get me atropine and quinidine injections." Sherlock said as he grab his coat and set out toward the hallway.

"Are you suggesting Azalea poisoning?" L said as he pulled out a box from his closet and read the labels on the syringes.

"Azaleas nectar is can be used to make honey and sweeteners it's called mad honey. The first victim had diabetes. The third victim, Edmund Saunders's was an athlete, his diet chart was stuck on his refrigerator; he drank one glass of hot water with milk every day. The killer must have easily replaced the sweetener or honey bottles at work and no one would know." Sherlock said.

"Take it in form of sweetener in coffee at work, no one would suspect it. It is a well-timed drug and has a six-hour window before taking effect. Results in cardiac arrest, convulsions, and even death if not treated immediately after the symptoms start." L said as the three of them went outside.

Heavy downpour of rain had begun, Sherlock pulled the collar of his Belstaff coat high up and ran around looking for any signs of a taxi, the rain, and the dark did not help much. A horn sound made them turn.

"Want a ride?" L asked getting down from the motorcycle. He handed over the keys to Sherlock and passed the syringe box to John.

"You guys go ahead, I will be right behind." L motioned them to go.

Sherlock and John hopped on the motorcycle and raced as fast as they could.

"Molly! Open the door! It's me Sherlock." Sherlock shouted outside the front door of Molly Hooper's house.

John pulled out a picklock from his pocket and fidgeted with the door.

"Where did you get that from?" Sherlock asked him.

"This is not the time." John said as the door opened.

Both of them rushed inside, Molly lay on the floor her arms and legs in spasm.

'Help me.' She mouthed.

John took her arm in his hand and pushed the injections in.

Sherlock kneeled beside her and caressing her face whispered, "You are going to be alright."

L rushed in the door with Watari behind him. They could even hear the police car sirens converging.

"We arrested the sister and even found the 'Call Girl' at the place when we traced the call seemed like she was waiting for us there. Her sister was feeding her information and wiping off the evidence, I cannot believe such a mole existed in my department." Lestrade said fuming to L. They were both standing near the door.

"It was all about the revenge. Molly was the last piece of her vengeance plan." L said.

"You know you were right. About Dan, I had called him right after I called you and he hasn't shown up yet." Molly said, she was still a little shaky as she got up from the sofa.

Sherlock placed his long fingers over her shoulders, looked at her face, and gave her one of his rarest and warmest smiles.

"I sincerely apologize for whatever I said before, any man would be lucky to have you, I am sure he is on his way. I have faith in your decisions and if you need anything I will always here for you." Sherlock said to her. Molly stood mesmerised in the same spot looking into Sherlock's eyes.

"We need to take you to a proper doctor. Let's go." Detective Sally Donovan said putting a blanket over Molly's shoulders. She escorted her out of the room.

"You have grown Sherlock." L commented coming up next to them.

"You too would have to, brother mine." Sherlock replied.

John looked at them both with his jaw dropped.

"Really? You two? "John stuttered.

"Lawleit Holmes here is my little brother, youngest of the three Holmes brothers." Sherlock addressed L in a low voice so that no one else would hear. L flinched slightly at the mention of his name. It had been years since anyone had mentioned it.

"You were fighting your own brother, all this time?" John asked as they walked out of the living room. The police forensics team had swarmed in and had started collecting evidence.

"We were not exactly fighting; I was here on Mycroft's orders to bring back Sherlock Holmes to work, which just weakly translated into to take him off drugs." L said with a short laugh.

"It is you who needs help still running around with your babysitter. " Sherlock teased him.

"Watari is my most trusted and skilled accomplice not a babysitter." L replied.

"L, are you in London for long? We could go out for drinks together all three of us; I think I owe you a proper apology for hitting you before. "John suggested as they steeped on the pavement outside the house.

"It's no problem really. I have had worse. I have to get back soon; the ICPO has another case for me. If you want to meet with me you could go to Whammy's house in central London, it is an orphanage and tell them my name you will find me. But if you ever mention or utter my name anywhere else they will find you." L said stressing the last part with a grave expression. L's face was dangerously close to John and the bloodshot colour in his eyes drained the colour in John's face.

"Stop threatening him." Sherlock cut them off.

The weather had cleared up and a cool breeze brushed past them. The trio shivered in their drenched clothes.

"Our work here is done; Let me give you a ride home." L said looking around; a few police cars littered the street outside.

"I don't like travelling in limos, too audacious." Sherlock replied scrunching his face.

"Suit yourself then. Here you can have this." L said picking out the motorcycle keys form his pocket and throwing them towards Sherlock. Sherlock caught them in one hand and put them in his pocket.

Watari stood near the black Limo with his passenger seat door open.

"Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson." he greeted them.

Both of them gave him a nod.

"I wanted to ask you this for a while, how did you survive the Kira incident, if Mycroft hadn't told me otherwise I would have thought you dead." Sherlock asked as L got in his car.

"Oh Sherlock now don't tell me you don't know how people come back from dead." L said with a wink closing the door.


End file.
